Vagabond

Soot.

Reis hated the smell. But what he saw around him made him quiver with anger. As he made his way through the small town, houses and hovels lay in ruin to his left and right. The occupants were either dead or sat slumped against the burnt pillars of what’s left of their home, weeping at their loss.

Reis urged his steed towards the town center. 

He could see some folks mulling about, and as he drew closer he saw some dead bodies that lay in pools of blood. The townsfolk looked at him, and Reis saw a mixed bag of expression from their eyes – the look of anger, anguish, and bewilderment. He dismounted and walked to a group.

“What happened here?” Reis asked. He did not receive a quick reply. Folks averted their gaze, and some stared at the ground. An elderly approached the knight.

“Some men came during the night.” He said, pointing at the dead with his walking stick.

“They came suddenly, ransacking every house as they went. Heard that they were looking for someone.” The elderly explained.

Reis nodded. He walked towards the pile of dead bodies to examine them.

“Dragonhide.” He muttered to himself. He noted the weapons that they carry, and the personal marks that some individual marked on shoulderplates to signify counts or tallies to a kill, but no emblem nor insignia to denote allegiance on any of them. Reis counted thirteen of them, dead with clean sword wounds.

“They were not mere mercenaries. They were too uniformed and organized, and well-equipped.” Reis muttered again. He recalled his lessons in heraldry, and his studies of factions within the Realm. No army wore dragonhide armor. Most kingdom in the realm armored their troops in chainmail as it was easy to be mass-produced, and it was cheaper to equip huge armies with. The wealthier kingdoms had their army clad in scale mail. Private armies, or the King’s personal guards wore plate mail. The most elite fighting force were afforded with full suit of plate armor, as do the knights. On the other hand, mercenaries and militias make do with armor of reinforced leather, made from tough bull hides of local tanneries. Dragonhide however, were very rare. Partly due to the rarities of actual dragons in this age, and the prohibitive price. Wearing an armor made from dragonhide is more of a status symbol than anything, aimed to intimidate opponents.

Apparently, the wearer were not worthy. The absence of any garrison in Fieri meant that there were no actual defender that offered resistance, and the townsfolk were pacifists.

“So who killed them?” Reis wondered. The elderly approached him.

“Some saw a figure, cloaked in dark clothing fought them, and killed every single one of them.”

“One man, against these?” Reis asked. He received a nod.

Reis threw his gaze to the Rumbling Din, and the stables. Suddenly, he remembered Rianna.

Reis dashed into the tavern, and saw the place ransacked. The barkeep lay in a heap in the middle, but Rianna was nowhere to be found. He went upstairs to check the rooms but found no one. He ran outside towards the stables, through the splintered double doors that hung askew from hinges, then stopped dead in his tracks.

Rianna was lying on one a pile of hay, unmoving. Her dress was in tatters, revealing delicate fair skin that was mottled with bruises and cuts. Reis’ heart sank at the sight. He walked slowly towards her, fearing the truth to be seen.

The girl’s head was facing away from him. Reis gently held her cheek and turned her head towards him. Dried blood caked her lips, and her eyes were closed. Rianna looked as if she was sleeping, but in a slumber that she would never wake up from again.

A wave of anger welled within him, and Reis felt the hatred grew. But In his anger, he had forsaken his sensory awareness. All of a sudden, a wave of pain engulfed him, sending him stumbling forward. Reis willed his accelerated healing to help remedy the pain, while his hand found the hilt of the broadsword at his side. Reis spun in a rising fury to face his attacker, drawing the blade in a menacing flash of steel.

“Get away from her!” a voice screamed from the shadowy corners of the stable. A female voice.

Reis steadied his stance as he detected a surge of energy drawing around him as his attacker prepared to cast another spell. A flash of light flickered and a bolt of energy was shot at him. In a split second, Reis willed the Light to imbue his broadsword with strength. His prayer was swiftly answered, and he parried the bolt with the broadsword, batting it back towards the caster. Not anticipating the move, his attacker was struck with her own spell. Screaming in pain, she toppled backwards.

Reis took giant strides and raised his sword to deliver the killing blow, but stopped short when he had gotten a good look at her.

“You!” he said. Reis knew who she was. He remembered bumping into her on his way out of the supply store yesterday, and recalled seeing her with a gnome companion in the tavern the day before that. 

Groaning in pain, the girl was recovering. Reis felt a pang of sorry for her, but remained cautious nevertheless. She looked young, but Reis knew that age could be deceiving. He saw her staff a few feet away from her, confirming that she was a mage. Not the most powerful of mages, but still, a mage. Reis was thankful for that, at least. He pointed the tip of his sword at her.

“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” Reis demanded. The girl sat up slowly, and turned her head to look at him in the face. Reis saw a pair of eyes that was red and swollen with grief, with tears that were welling in her eyes. Her features and skin complexion was very fine, but it was her pointy elven ears that gave away her identity.

Reis slid his sword home, and knelt next to her. He offered his hand to help her up. She looked at him for a long time, then took his hand in hers. Reis helped her up where she stood on shaky legs. Reis willed his healing powers once again, and prayed that Light would help him heal the elf girl. Once again, his prayer was answered, and a warm sensation immediately flooded his body. With his thoughts, Reis willed the warmth to emanate from within him and into her. He willed that the Light would fill her body with the same warmth and heal her wounds. The elf girl looked bewildered at first, but then closed her eyes in accepting the healing. She felt the stinging pain from her cuts and scrapes dulled, and the shock of internal injury from the energy bolt lessen. Soon, she felt well and invigorated.

“I apologize for striking you. I hadn’t known.” Rez told her. She nodded in acknowledgement.

“My name is Reis Alderron, of the White City.”

The elf girl rose to her feet and looked around for a bit. She found what she was looking for and picked her staff from the floor. With a subtle curtsy she introduced herself.

“My name is Shierra. I am from Levianna.” She said. Her voice was shaky and laced with grief. She threw her gaze beyond him, towards the still body of Rianna.

Reis turned around and followed her gaze. He realized that Shierra was sharing the same grief as he is.

“Rianna.” Reis whispered. Shierra heard the name and realized the sorrow on his face.

“My apologies.” She said. “I thought that..you are one of those brutes that defiled her.”

Reis waved the remorse away and walked with slow, heavy steps towards Rianna. Shierra followed him.

Reis caressed Rianna’s face, pushing her matted hair from her face. He tidied her clothing the best he could, then leaned over to plant a kiss on her forehead. Shierra looked on with interest. She learned that Rianna meant dearly to him, though she wondered why.

Reis knelt on one knee and cradled Rianna in his arms. With a strong grasp, he rose, lifting Rianna into the crook of his arms. He adjusted his posture, and walked calmly out of the stable. Once again, Shierra followed him as Reis made his way to the town center.